


Death Becomes Us

by TheGreatCatsby



Series: KouGino Week [5]
Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Alternate Universe, Immortality, KouGino Week, M/M, day 4: au, immortal/mortal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 02:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4811786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginoza finds himself drawn to a human in the middle of Tokyo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Becomes Us

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry

Part I - Eternity 

Eternity is a long time. It's such a long time, that it doesn't really get measured. Things change, life constantly changes for those who have their days marked out in numbers. Eventually those numbers run out. 

Ginoza finds himself drawn to a human in the middle of Tokyo. It's an instinct, telling him to do the very thing he was made for. It brings him to a man lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. It's raining, and the blood runs in small rivers away from him, towards a woman in a blue jacket frantically shouting into a radio. This body is dying, losing blood from two wounds in the stomach. Bullet wounds, Ginoza sees. There's a gun lying a few feet away.

They must be police. 

Ginoza has taken a lot of police. He kneels down next to the man, ready to take him, too. He reaches out for his hand, feeling sorry that this man has to go in such a violent way. 

But the man sees him. And smiles. “Who're you?” he rasps. 

Ginoza stops. He's taken aback. No one sees him. He doesn't let them. It's a shock. 

And then the man asks, “Are you here to help me?” 

Is he? 

Ginoza doesn't know how long he stares, trying to think of an answer. Long enough for the man to fall unconscious, for the woman to kneel next to him and tell him that help is on the way, for the paramedics to arrive and move right through Ginoza, lifting the man onto the stretcher and disappearing. 

And still Ginoza stays. The instinct is there, a dull pain in his chest that connects him to this man now. Because he hadn't taken his soul away, and he should have. 

* 

If Ginoza is one thing, he is lonely. 

All he does is take people away from the people who care about them. He knows he shouldn't feel bad about this. It's just what he does. It has to happen. Humans can't live forever. But it makes him think about the one thing that's remained constant throughout his existence: 

He is alone. 

Maybe that's why he ends up in the hospital, sitting by the man's bed. He steals a look at his charts. The man's name is Kougami Shinya. It's been two days since the accident. 

He's asleep, skin pale, dark hair sticking up in all directions. He doesn't look like he's dying anymore. 

Ginoza folds his hands in his lap and waits. 

He could take Kougami now. Even though he's stabilized, according to those papers at the end of his bed. He'll have to eventually. He looks down at his hands. 

“I don't know you.” 

Ginoza startles, head snapping up to find the man next to him awake and staring right at him. 

“I...” Ginoza trails off. 

Kougami scrutinizes him more closely, frowns. “Wait...you look familiar.” He stares longer, and Ginoza stares back, taking in Kougami's sharp gaze. “You were there before the medics arrived. When I got shot.” 

Ginoza nods. 

“Who are you? Why were you there?” 

“I should leave.” Ginoza stands, and Kougami lurches forward, attempting to grab him. Ginoza jumps back, nearly falling over in his hurry to get away. “Don't touch me.” 

“Why not?” Kougami doesn't look angry. He looks confused. 

But Ginoza thinks, he would be angry if he knew who Ginoza was. If he knew that if Ginoza decided to touch him, he'd be gone. Forever. 

“I almost killed you,” he says. 

“You almost...” Kougami makes a strange sound, which becomes laughter. Laughter that has him doubled over on the bed, which turns into pained coughs after a moment, which make Ginoza wince. “We caught the guys who shot me. You're definitely not one of them.” 

“I mean,” Ginoza says, and the words are hard. He's never explained this. He isn't sure he knows how. “I take souls. When people are dying.” 

Kougami narrows his eyes. 

“That's impossible.” 

 

Part II – The Numbered Days

Kougami doesn't believe in gods. Kougami doesn't believe in any higher powers. He's a detective who deals in evidence, and occasionally intuition, but the best type of intuition is intuition backed by evidence. 

And now there's a man in his hospital room telling him that he takes peoples' souls. Which would, technically, make him a death god. 

And he's a little strange, even though he otherwise looks like a person. Very pale, dressed in all white, and something about him seems not all there. Not just how he acts, but he very being. Kougami feels the hair on his neck stand up while this guy is in the room. 

“What's your name?” he asks. 

The man hesitates. “Ginoza.” 

“Okay, Ginoza. Show me.” 

Ginoza's eyes widen. “What?” 

“Show me that you can do what you say you can do,” Kougami says. “I can understand that maybe you were a bystander who saw me get shot and wanted to help.” He wonders why Akane never mentioned him, but she was dealing with a lot that day. “That doesn't mean you were actually there to ferry my soul off to who-knows-where.” 

“I don't,” Ginoza says. “I can't go there.” 

“Go where?” 

“I just extract souls,” Ginoza continues. “I don't know where they go.” 

Kougami takes a deep breath. “I need you to show me.” 

Ginoza stares at him. “You want me to take a soul, in front of you?” 

“Ye-” Kougami stops. Thinks about what he's saying. He's asking Ginoza to kill someone in front of him. 

“A lot of people here are dying,” Ginoza says after a moment, turning away from him. 

Kougami struggles to sit. His wounds still hurt, but he thinks that he can walk around if he leans against his IV pole. He grabs it, tries to stand, and nearly falls over. 

Ginoza is already heading for the door. 

Kougami pulls himself up, ignoring the pain in his stomach, and pushes the IV pole forward, dragging himself along with it. He follows Ginoza into the hallway, because if Ginoza is actually going to kill someone, Kougami should stop him. It would be his fault. This man clearly needs help, or needs to be arrested. 

“Ginoza, stop,” he snaps, but the other man keeps walking down the hall. 

Kougami can't go any faster. He tries to speed up. Ginoza stops in front of one of the rooms, then steps inside. 

Kougami staggers forward as fast as he can, reaches the doorway just as Ginoza reaches the bed. There's an older man lying there, struggling to breathe, gasping. Kougami almost falls against the door frame. 

Ginoza crosses to the other side of the bed, as if to give Kougami a clear view. He reaches for the man's hand, takes it. 

His eyes glow white. 

There is no visible change to the man on the bed. Other than that the moment Ginoza drops his hand, several alarms go off. But the worst part is the silence. No more gasping. 

Ginoza raises his head, eyes still glowing, and stares straight at Kougami. 

Kougami stumbles away from the door, crashes into the opposite wall, and several nurses and doctors rush past him. They rush past Ginoza, too, not seeing him, not touching him, going through him. One of them stops and touches Kougami's arm, says something, checks his bandages, and starts leading him back to his room. 

The next few minutes pass strangely. Suddenly, Kougami finds himself back in his room, exhausted, bandages changed. And Ginoza is at the end of his bed, pacing. 

It takes a lot of effort to speak, but Kougami has to ask, “Why didn't you take me?” 

Ginoza stops, balls his hands into fists, and says, “I don't know.” 

And then he walks out of the room. 

*

Kougami doesn't see Ginoza for two weeks. In that time, he gets out of the hospital, is told to stay at home and rest for a month. He can't go back to work. He's bored. 

And he wants to find Ginoza again. 

He doesn't know where to look for him. That's the problem. He assumes that Ginoza isn't the sort of spirit or whatever he is that hangs out in graveyards. He thinks of going back to the hospital, but he'd have a hard time explaining why he's there. 

But staying in his apartment isn't doing him any favors, so he decides to go for a walk. 

He finds himself in the park. It's winter, so there's not a lot of people. The path is covered in patches of ice. The grass, with snow. Kougami's been walking for fifteen minutes when he hears a second set of footsteps lightly falling behind him. 

And a voice says, “You shouldn't be out here.” 

“Are you following me?” Kougami asks, turning around. Ginoza stands there, shrugs. “Should I be concerned that a death spirit or whatever you are is following me around?” 

“No. Yes? I can find you, if that's what you mean.” 

Kougami frowns. But this is good. He can ask the questions he wants to ask. “So why can I see you and other people can't?” 

“I'm usually not seen unless I want to be seen,” Ginoza says. He shifts on his feet. “I don't know. Maybe I wanted you to see me.” 

“And how come you keep coming back?” Kougami asks. “Am I still dying or something?” 

Ginoza shakes his head, and picks at the sleeve of his shirt. After a moment he says, “You were the first person in a long time to talk to me.” 

Kougami stuffs his hands into his pockets to warm them. He can't imagine not talking to people. “Well, people must not see you. Or they must be too close to death to talk.” 

“No,” Ginoza says. “I don't let them see me.” 

“Why not?” 

“What's the point?” Ginoza laughs, a breathy sound. “They'll be gone in a few seconds. I shouldn't even be talking to you. You'll be gone, too. You're not dying now, but you will be. I'll never see you again. I'm stuck here.” 

He wraps his arms around himself, even though Kougami doesn't think that he's cold. 

“That's pretty bleak,” Kougami says after a moment. He moves closer. Ginoza takes a step back. “Relax, I'm not gonna touch you. I actually like being alive. I'm glad you didn't take me back then.” He smiles. “Thanks.” 

“Okay.” Ginoza doesn't seem to know how to respond. 

“I mean, if you're stuck here, wouldn't it make sense to get to know as many people as you can?” Kougami asks. “You'd meet all sorts of people, really interesting, fascinating people.” 

“I think I can only make myself seen by people who are close to death, or have been close to death,” Ginoza says. “And soon, they'd be gone. I'd lose them. What if you lost everyone you ever got to know?” 

“I could,” Kougami says. But he knows that it's different from what Ginoza is saying. That if he lost everyone he ever formed a connection with, he might find it hard to go on living. “Ginoza...you can't die?” 

“I don't think so.” 

“And you've never been alive?” 

“I don't know.” 

Kougami lets out a long breath, which steams in the cold air. “What if you only got to know one person? The one you saved.” 

“I didn't save you,” Ginoza snaps, narrowing his eyes. “I put off the inevitable.” 

“Okay, well, you put it off for a reason,” Kougami says. “I'm still here.” He steps closer. There's barely any space between them, and Ginoza becomes extremely still. “What do you think?” 

“I've already gotten to know you,” Ginoza says. “You're a detective. You care about your colleagues and they care about you. You take risks. You're willing to reach out to strangers that you find interesting. I already don't want to take you. I don't want to think about that day, but there's something driving me towards it. Because that's what I'm made to do.” 

“I don't care if you do,” Kougami says. 

“Of course not. You'll be gone.” Ginoza looks angry. 

“So what you're saying is, I won't see you again until I die?” Kougami asks. 

Something in Ginoza's face changes. He looks horrified at the idea. 

“You shouldn't let that be the last time we see each other,” Kougami says. 

“I don't know if it will be,” Ginoza tells him, shaken. He turns and walks off, fading into the distance. 

Kougami watches him go. 

He finds himself oddly at peace. He isn't afraid to see Ginoza again. Even if the next time he sees him is when he's really dying. 

But he imagines that it's much harder to be at peace when you're on the other side. 

*

Thinking brings on the hard questions. Kougami begins to wonder if Ginoza has taken everyone that he knows who's died. Like Kagari and Sasayama, who both were killed the previous year while investigating a murder case. Kagari's body had never been found. Sasayama's body had been, but it was mutilated almost beyond recognition. 

He sees Ginoza sitting on the bench outside the police station a few weeks later. “It's time, huh?” he says, fishing out a cigarette and lighting it. 

Ginoza stands. “No.” 

“Let's walk.” 

They walk, Ginoza careful to keep a distance between them. He glances Kougami's way every so often, grimacing whenever smoke blows in his direction. 

Finally, Kougami says, “I've been wondering. Do you take everyone?” 

“No.” Ginoza tenses. 

“What about two of my colleagues that died last year? Kagari? Sasayama?” 

Ginoza is silent for a moment. Then he says, “The red-haired one.” 

“Kagari,” Kougami says, and he takes a deep drag of his cigarette, releases the smoke in a long sigh. “Shit.” 

“His body was irreparably damaged,” Ginoza says, quietly. “His soul practically leapt into my hands.” 

“You can't save everyone,” Kougami mutters. “We have that problem, too. Does it bother you?” 

“It's...no. It doesn't bother me.” 

“Okay.” Kougami can accept that. He supposes if taking souls bothered Ginoza, then his existence would be a living hell. Loneliness being what bothers him seems a bit more manageable. Because he doesn't have to be. 

“It's admirable,” Ginoza says, “that you risk your lives for others.” 

Kougami shrugs. His cigarette is nothing but ashes now, and he lets it fall to the ground. 

“Do you enjoy it?” Ginoza asks. 

Kougami smiles. This is easier, talking about what he does. “Yeah. Best job in the world.” 

*

Kougami might be in love with someone who isn't human. 

Ginoza appears, sometimes days apart, sometimes weeks. There's one absence that lasts months, and Ginoza is shocked when Kougami points this out. He doesn't understand how to keep track of time, and it scares him now. He tells Kougami that he doesn't want to waste all their time together simply because he couldn't feel it passing. That's the first time he admits that he wants to spend time with Kougami at all. 

At the same time, he isn't around every day. 

Kougami thinks that it's a coping mechanism. Ginoza is trying to balance having someone he can talk to with keeping the appropriate distance. He doesn't want to get attached to Kougami. He doesn't want to be alone, either. He's been craving interaction, and Kougami is the only one giving it to him. 

One day, while they're sitting on either end of Kougami's couch, Kougami wonders out loud, “Can you feel love?” 

“Love?” Ginoza repeats, eyebrows drawing together. “Emotions?” 

“I'm pretty sure you feel emotions,” Kougami says. 

“I'm pretty sure I do feel emotions,” Ginoza says. “Why are you asking?” 

“Do you feel all of them?”

Ginoza stares at him. “Who would I love?” 

That stings, a little. So Kougami opts for a joke. “So what you're saying is, that you're a cold-hearted bastard.” 

Now Ginoza looks insulted. “I am not. I don't have a heart.” 

“So you're just a bastard.” 

“I'm just cold,” Ginoza says. His lips quirk upwards, the hint of a smile, never the full thing. Like he doesn't know how. “And yet you keep talking to me.” 

“Akane won't listen to my bullshit anymore,” Kougami says. 

“She's smart,” Ginoza mutters. Kougami throws a pillow at him, expecting it to sail straight through. But it hits, and bounces to the floor. 

“What?” 

“That,” Ginoza says, “was to make you feel better about yourself.” 

*

“I don't want you to die.” 

They lie in bed, almost like a couple, Kougami thinks. Even though they're not touching. Ginoza is almost hyper-aware at all times of the position of their bodies in relation to each other. He whispers those words when he thinks Kougami is asleep. 

Kougami wouldn't want to be in Ginoza's position. Because Ginoza is going to be the one who, ultimately, decides when he'll die. 

At least he doesn't love me,” Kougami says. Because even though he hopes that Ginoza does love him, because that would make the feeling mutual, he understands why it's better that he doesn't. He doesn't want to leave Ginoza in any more pain than he has to. 

* 

This time, Kougami is almost torn apart. 

He's in the field with Akane, chasing a group of anarchists who've decided that it's a good idea to try and throw pipe bombs at a crowd during a festival. It's part of a larger sense of unrest in the city, and maybe they should have stopped to think about the risks of chasing people armed with explosives and guns. But they're chasing the criminals before more damage can occur. 

They corner them. One throws a pipe bomb, which Akane kicks away. It explodes out of their range, and Kougami draws his gun. 

Too late. The second one throws a second bomb, and he rushes forward to keep it from hitting Akane. He feels like something's slammed into him, causing him to fall back. He tastes metal. 

He hears several gunshots. Running. Akane's face, pale, appears over him. 

“If they're still running, chase them,” Kougami manages to tell her. 

“I'll call for help,” Akane promises, and she runs off. 

Kougami closes his eyes. It's getting hard to breathe. His chest hurts, a deep ache becoming sharper and heavier, spreading. He coughs, and feels a warm wetness run down his chin. 

When he opens his eyes, Ginoza is staring down at him. 

“You're an idiot,” he says, eyes running over Kougami's body with a sort of desperation. “You're such an idiot. You're drowning. Your heart is overworked. I can...see your lungs. You're drowning in your own blood and I don't think they can fix it.” 

“It hurts,” Kougami says. He grits his teeth, his chest feeling like it's going to explode. 

Ginoza's eyes snap to his face. “Kougami.” He closes his eyes, takes a shuddering breath. “Why?” 

Kougami coughs. More blood. “My job.” He takes a rattling breath. It catches. He wants to talk. He wants to tell Ginoza that he loves him. But he's choking, and his vision is starting to white-out, and Ginoza is staring at him again, expression full of horror and despair. 

Kougami closes his eyes. He isn't sure for how long, but it takes a lot of effort to open them again. When he does, Ginoza is even closer, inches away from his face. 

“I think I love you,” Ginoza says. 

Kougami smiles. 

Ginoza's face contorts, he bites his lip, looks away. Then he seems to gather himself, because he turns to again Kougami and forces a smile back. Then he closes the tiny gap between them, presses his lips against Kougami's lips. 

It's the last thing Kougami feels.


End file.
